Beginning at the end
by Misunderstood Beauty
Summary: 1 is the beginning. 2 is the middle. 3 is the end. But what if it doesn't happen in that order? RuthHarry this looks so much better in my LJ the strikethrough works there


Love can touch us one time,  
And last for a lifetime  
And never let go till we're gone

Love was when I loved you,  
One true time I hold to  
In my life we'll always go on

My heart will go on – Celine Dion

1 is the beginning.

The beginning of an operation is like the first page of a book. The beginning of a romance is like the opening night of a play. The beginning of a romance is _not_ like the beginning of an operation. They are contradictions. One is a horror story, the other is fluff.

They have more in common than either of them thought. Both had been naïve enough to assume that the beginning of an operation wouldn't be the beginning of a romance. Because in the real world, it wouldn't. Operations often meant the end of life. Romance meant the beginning of it. How could they collide? They are opposites. One lives in the real world, the other is shrouded from reality.

Neither of them have worked out which is which.

Romance in the grid never works, it simply becomes water cooler gossip for when they are at a loose end. He doesn't want that. He fails to appreciate that she didn't want that either.

Dominoes. That's what they are. They are balancing on the smallest possible point, it would take one flick for them to fall. The Berlin wall that had built itself up between them could be demolished with just a flick of a finger. A breath of fresh air would blow it over. They'd fall to the floor. Together.

He's not pretending that he hasn't noticed her. He smiles at her when they pass. He takes every possible opportunity to get close to her, to breath the air that she breathes. He grabs at the chance to touch her. They work intimately together yet are so far apart. He wants to be close to her.

2 is the middle.

She's not pretending that she hasn't noticed him either. She's not pretending that she doesn't care. Because she can't. She cares too much. Ever since she told that stupid lie about having his baby she's cared. And long before that.

She's a little scared of him. She's out of her depth. She drowning. She trying to tread the choppy waters of him section D. She doesn't know that he's trying to do exactly the same as her. She doesn't know that they are reflections, blood siblings, twins.

For two people that have worked together for years they are surprisingly awkward around each other. Neither is yet aware of the chemistry. It will only take the introduction of a naked flame to create a bang loud enough to awaken their senses to the reactions between them.

She had long ago realised that she was naïve to the ways of love beyond the Shakespeare plays and Austen novels. She only knew of the poetic, gently elegant romances which were bound between two covers. She had once thought that she had loved but had been proved wrong.

She doesn't realise that she was in love now. She mistakes the titters in her stomach for nervousness, the shivers when he touches her for fear. She mistakes the smiles that he gives her for platonic friendship, the closeness he doesn't seek to break for necessity.

Deep down she knows she loves him, even deeper she harnesses a hope thought that he might love her back. She doesn't know what to think, what to do anymore.

3 is the end.

Her fingers continue to hit the computer keys as she looks over the top of the monitor at him. He's doing his usual round of the grid, gathering new information, dishing out fresh orders. He's always left her until last, and stays with her the longest.

To begin with she thought it was because her job meant that she had to retrieve more information than most, but she now realises that he doesn't spend much of it talking about her findings. She has finally realised that most of its small talk.

It's the type of banter she engages in over a drink not a computer screen. But she likes it. They talk about silly things, the weather, favourite films. He pays her subtle compliments. Sometimes he'll say that he likes her hair or her new necklace. Sometimes it'll be more subtle, something like 'good work' or 'well done' or 'I'm proud of you'.

She's never realised what these things might mean before. She never thought of him in that way.

Now she's beginning to see what he wants. She's beginning to see at the end.


End file.
